We all know what happens as a soupy, sticky cold progresses. You know what that feels like. You know what it sounds like. And you know that if you, like me, were home alone during the course of it, it would sound a lot louder. Yeah, that has been my day. Every rude hacking, snorting noise you can picture, with the volume cranked up because I had no one around to impress. I'm hoarse from all the sounds I made, as much as from the cold itself.
When I was a teenager, and my mother went through an icky cold like this, she referred to herself sarcastically as a "fairy princess." I have a great love of sarcasm, even if she has tried to distance herself from it later on, so that ironic nickname stuck with me. Today, I am a true fairy princess. Heck, I have ascended the throne in my own right. I am the fairy queen (faerie queene.) Elizabeth I, eat your heart out.
I'm pretty sure that mostly stewing in it has allowed the cold to run its course. My breathing is nearly back to normal now. There's almost nothing left in my head. There's probably a few clumps of virus packing up, ready to leave my lungs for the last time. At least, I hope so. I lost a week to this, and I have a whole lot of things to prep for. October is super busy around here, and I can't spend another day just sitting around.
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